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This was supposed to be an easy mission.
OlympicFell was an unjust world. Monsters competed for the right to live. The games were violent variations of traditional sports. Hurdles with spiked pits, swimming races in predator infested waters, and even javelin throwing where the loser has to walk the remaining distance of the field as the games are still running.
Whoever wins the most games gets to rule from the winner's podium reserved for the top three athletes. From there they can decide if the games continue or not. They always do.
Nightmare's steps were simple. Kill the three leaders from their shadows. Assume power and end the games on the condition the inhabitants swear their loyalty to him. They will have positive emotions upon freedom, but the residual negativity from the last few years of their life could not be easily erased, and this would benefit the both of them. Finally, he would take volunteers to attack the Dream team that had refused to help them.
This would work perfectly.
If he were in OlympicFell.
Unfortunately, he ended up in the FellOlympics where the inhabitants were less grateful for their supposed savior. In this universe, they wanted the games to continue. The top three monsters were the top three targets in a struggle for power everyone had a chance at.
He had stood at the top of the podium, surrounded by a shroud of dust falling to the participants below like confetti. For a moment, there was cheering. And then there were javelins, magic bullets, and throwing discs being launched at him from all angles. In response, his negativity resonated from him pushing back the hand-to-hand combat, resulting in a few team members attacking each other. But it wasn't enough.
Hit after hit, he found himself being pushed back as his HP slowly dropped. Every attack had more force then the first and he was having trouble not being overrun. The worst part was the emotional reaction. Absolutely none of the monsters maintained a negative attitude for long. No, the primary force of this universe just screamed OPPORTUNITY.
Using the shadows of a nearby building, Nightmare quickly climbed into the darkness and using his abilities, came up inside the guarded structure. His body oozed and dripped black fluid as it shed the attacks lodged in his form. He just needed a moment to catch his bearings and figure out his next move.
The sound of a plastic bottle slowly being crushed from the inside and some obnoxious gulping sounds were heard from the next row of lockers. Nightmare tried to remain silent, but a shot put that had been lodged in his lower back slowly popped out, causing a loud sound of impact on the locker room tile. Echoed was the plastic bottle hitting the floor.
"Hello?"
Rolling into view, a cheap water bottle bumped into the nearby aisle; it seemed to be full of orange paint residue. He had to move.
Sensing someone nearby, Ink slowly rounded the corner, his paintbrush in hand. "Hey~ don't be afraid little buddy, I'm not here to hurt you~" but the sheen in his eyes spoke differently.
Ink had been told to meet up with Dream here to help out but had trouble finding him. The orange paint was a request of the prince of positivity. Red for anger to help counteract the anger in this universe, and yellow to boost positivity to fuel Dream. He looked at the line of lockers and noticed the shot put on the ground surrounded by a dark slime. It was the same dark slime coming out from one of the taller lockers. Ink figured if the monster wanted to hide from conflict, maybe he could convince him to side with him.
The moment the locker door opened, Nightmare lashed out with a piercing attack, shredding part of Ink's scarf as he jumped back. In response, Ink swung Broomy upward with the black pigment, throwing Nightmare against the ceiling before he dropped on top of the lockers... and now had the higher ground. Whoops.
Nightmare's tentacles continued their stabbing motions against the colorful skeleton who parried with his brush. Even though they were both dark fluids, it stung, and the liquid falling to the ground could not be differentiated between attack or injury.
Metal crunched and fragmented as Nightmare jumped between stacks of lockers, ultimately destroying the room. There was so much liquid on the ground that even Ink almost slipped a few times. The prince of negativity gave a demonic screech at the artist and looked for an exit.
He was losing energy, fast. If he wasn't careful, he-
A loud melody suddenly blasted from Ink's pocket. With his weapon still 'drawn' and pointed at his enemy, he dipped his finger in his brush and quickly drew a wireless phone piece on his head to answer.
"Hey Blue, what's up?"
An angry little voice could be heard.
"Because he told me to be?"
Muffled yelling. Ink looked happily confused. And then angry (as the red paint does to him).
".... Well how was I supposed to know it was last week?! You know I don't date my scarf!"
The voice sounded like a lecture and Ink appeared to tune it out. The shapes in his eyes jumped around before focusing on Nightmare who was inching towards the door. He held up his finger, requesting the dark creature to wait as he drew his attention back to the phone call.
"As a matter of fact I DID find him! He's right here!" Ink then pulled off his head piece and held it in Nightmare's direction. "Say Hi~!"
The looming figure hissed. Ink placed the speaker back on his skull.
"Told you." He rested his free hand on his hip smugly. The voice on the other end gave a snarky question, and the artist froze for a moment in thought.
"Wh… Well I was about to! Alors il faut être patient!!!" Ink fumed into the line before hanging up his call. He turned back to the cornered figure and cleared his throat.
"Ech-- Nightmare. The chosen location is at Dream's residence. You both will be alone but there will be protection alarms in place. There will be dinner." He reiterated politely with a smile.
Nightmare continued to perch on the lockers; his tentacles raised in defense with no verbal response. He ….probably heard him?
"Anyway…. It was nice seeing you! I'm gonna … go." He pointed behind him.
Nightmare didn't move and his piercing stare didn't falter.
"Oh...'Kay...."
No response.
"....Bye, then!!" Quickly spinning around, Ink's brush drew a portal on the ground to fall through, leaving the room quiet and full of black fluid.
Nightmare didn't have the energy to leave until an hour later.
----
"KILLER! Pick up... your FUCKING traps!" The sound of metal and wood being broken and thrown could be heard from the livi--meeting room. This would be the last time Nightmare tripped on them. If you listened closely, he seemed to be having a little trouble collecting his breath.
"sorry, nighty~!" Killer called out, walking towards the ongoing destruction. Before he was able to lock sockets with his boss, the front of his shirt was gripped forcefully, lifting his heels off the ground.
"I don't… want to see this... SHIT in my lair... Or your FAILURES scattered all over the FLOOR." Nightmare growled before throwing him back slightly.
Instead of fear, Killer looked at him cautiously as they shared a gaze. A consideration. A rejection.
The leader continued down the hall, heading towards his room; darkness oozing behind him. He stopped and threw a look at Dust, who watched from the stairs with curiosity.
"What are… YOU looking at?" He spat. But his eyes lingered a little longer, as if thinking. For a split second of silence, he held still until Nightmare bared his teeth as if to show dominance and move on.
Just as he was about to continue his journey, Axe appeared in front of him. In his hands was a small sandwich, ones he often made in advance for missions. It appeared he just took it out of the fridge where it was waiting for tomorrow's tasks. He offered it to the brooding figure.
For a moment, Nightmare looked at Axe. His eyelights searched for something, but only found empathy.
He threw the sandwich against the wall before disappearing behind his bedroom; the base shook as the door slammed shut.
Cross watched the scene unfold from the kitchen table where the rest of the team members gathered.
"who pissed in his cheerios?" Asked Killer as he picked up a fresh orange from the community fruit bowl.
"not sure. did you hear him, though? his anger almost seems forced." Dust spoke up, cautiously glancing to Nightmare's door.
".... he looked hungry…" Spoke Axe as he picked bits of sandwich off the wall.
"hungry people usually don't yeet their lunch~" he picked the peel from the orange, placing it in front of Cross to be annoying.
"... i said he /looked/ hungry…" the butcher mumbled.
"what do you think, cross?" The hooded skeleton asked.
For a moment, Cross didn't answer. He seemed to be considering something. "... I'll ask him when he cools down. Let me take care of it."
---
Nightmare rested on a custom chair made of brass and dark, soft pillows. His tentacles laid in a way that both gave them a place to rest as well as support for his back. A nearby small table held a short glass with ice and amber liquid; a crystal pitcher nearby with more of the same beverage.
Despite his gloomy appearance, his room was lit with multiple compact fluorescent lights, illuminating and feeding numerous potted plants throughout. A soft bed was in the corner, full of various blankets and pillows chosen for comfort, not design. Against the wall were bookshelves of fables, psychology, dream analysis, and some plant and insect textbooks. There was a purple banner on the wall, damaged as though it were worn, and a small shelf full of trinkets his team members collected for him. There were at least 3 octopus figurines among them.
From the door there was a knock.
"I don't want visitors-"
"It's me, Cross."
"- You say that as though it would change my mind." Nightmare responded with a hint of sass. Cross let himself in anyway
Closing the door behind him, The soldier shared a look between him and his boss. He had to be careful of what emotions he was expressing since he knew any of them could be felt at any time. After a moment of silence, he spoke.
".... You're injured."
Nightmare continued locking eyes with Cross until he gave up looking for any signs of pity. Rolling his eyelights, he leaned back and motioned for Cross to sit at the small table with him. He knew that if he fought this discussion, Cross would only involve more teammates.Pulling out another glass, he poured more of the drink from the crystal pitcher for his guest.
Cross sat down with his back upright, unrelaxed. Politely holding the cup, he chose to continue his discussion.
"So what's the plan?"
The leader stared at his glass, now avoiding eye contact. "... Rest for a bit, then enter the dreamscape and scare the shit out of someone." He mumbled.
The black and white skeleton tried to focus on the facts and not at how ridiculous that plan was. Gaining negativity through the dreamscape was a slow process and he needed more help than that. "Why not use someone here?"
It wouldn't be the first time.
"It's been too recent…. I need everyone in top shape. Too much is in jeopardy if I …." He huffed, and took a sip of his drink.
But Cross knew what he really meant. After the event involving tattoo-tale, he's been trying to not be as harsh on the team. Almost as if he cared about their feelings or something
"What about… through other, non-violent means… ?" His face threatened to blush without thought. As a distraction from emotions, he took a sip of the amber drink and tried not to gag. It confused him to no end why Nightmare chose to drink sweet tea this way.
"...." He sighed. "I can't use Dust again. Not worth the benefits." It'd be hypocritical and they both knew it. Plus, he had to use some harsher language to make it work, and he felt like Dust needed more confidence before he dug into him again.
"Killer?"
"Killer's best trait is that he instinctively won't go down without a fight. Fighting him would defeat the purpose." He sipped his drink.
"...Axe?"
"Heh … it's not negative for him."
"Ah…" Cross nervously held his glass; his fingers tapping against it in thought. He knew what the next suggestion should be. Instead, he stalled.
Nightmare finished off his glass. The fluorescent lights hummed. He closed his eyes.
Cross opened his mouth, but then shut it again. His leg bounced under the table.
".... I should probably get to bed, so-"
"-What about me?!" Cross quickly stood up at attention. His glass cup almost spilled on the table.
"… What about you?" Nightmare asked, deadpan.
"Er…" a nervous but negative emotion seeped out. He can keep up the act in front of everyone else, but Nightmare knew his limitations. "I… can do it."
"....Do what?" Nightmare tilted his head slowly.
Cross suddenly became shy and mumbled ".... Don't make me say it …"
His smile came out. "But you saying it would benefit me?"
"Aughh…." He stomped his feet lightly and tried to enter his professional headspace. "Sir, please let me help you with this!..."
"..."
"..."
Nightmare's goopy brow raised, and out of the corner of his eye, the shadows of his tentacles dived into Cross' and slowly attached to his form.
"... If you insist."
The soldier stiffened as he felt something dark move across the entirety of his left side; the side of his body trapped in his shadow. Down his leg and as far up as his cheek, he tried to remain calm, his free hand clenching and unclenching.
"Now let's see … how long you can endure."
As much as Cross wanted to keep his eyes attentive, he found it impossible to keep them opened. Something about knowing it's coming already had the negative emotions flowing as steadily as the tendrils traveling down his boot.
Slowly, the darkness crawled over the top of his left foot and cascaded over the sides and across his sole. They weren't tickling yet, but the suspense was absolutely killing him, and he held his breath.
Nothing.
Nothing?
He took another breath, ready and waiting.
Still nothing.
Opening one of his eyes, he looked down at his foot, and then slowly up Nightmare's form. Was he distracted by something? ...Quite the opposite. Now that Nightmare finally had the soldier's attention and locked eyes, he finally started his attack.
Cross felt his chest run cold as the darkness began to squirm and wiggle slightly down his soles. His left side was completely imobile and he couldn't move his foot at all.
"Yeh-!"
He clamped his mouth shut and a rush of negativity came out with it. This was incredibly embarrassing, especially in front of Nightmare. He was second in command for his strength, and this was really all it takes to bring him down?
"Oh. What was that?" Nightmare asked, walking closer.
Cross could feel the darkness slowly climb each rib up his side, an agonizing sliding back and forth across the edge of each bone. His teeth chattered for a moment and he tensed harder, trying not to show a reaction.
The leader tilted his head and his teal iris looked him square in the eyes until the monochrome skeleton squeezed his own shut again. Shadows continued to spread around his upper arm and shoulder, sinking down until the left arm was stuck half open.
Cross felt little circles trace the palm of his hand and slowly moved up his wrist and danced between the radius and ulna. From the top of his shoulder he could feel touches lightly scraping down his arm and towards the upper ribs. For a moment he thought he still had control of the other half of his body, but his right foot wouldn't move and he slowly felt his boot getting filled from the holes of his shoelaces.
"... You're doing better than I thought." Both a compliment and hit of negativity. "And yet despite your admirable control… you fear the moment you will break."
The soldier trembled slightly. If he could numb the physical sensations he'd be fine, but hearing and knowing his boss was in the same room was where the negativity and loss of control would stem. He can be better. He will be better. A shaky breath and he tried to calm his mind again.
"You'd love to prove me wrong, wouldn't you?" Nightmare spoke, he was now much closer to the side of his face. "As if I'd be so proud of your hard work." His dark hands raised and lightly traced the right side of his neck, just right below the skull. Delicious panic.
"But you'd be wrong." His finger lowered to the next vertebrae and traced. "I'm going to enjoy breaking you down as slowly as possible." Down another vertebrae. Cross gasped and quickly tried to regain composure. "There it is….."
Nightmare's fingertip lightly traced the third vertebrae, flicking lightly but rapidly in one place until Cross' face went from focus to falter, and the deep laughter rolled out with the buffet of negativity.
"aHAH- AHUEHAHA!" His free shoulder shook and embarrassment rolled off of him at the volume his laughter rang out. His assailant removed his hand, but replaced it with darkness to continue his attack.
"Oh Cross…. Can't you hold still? You're shaking and it's unbecoming of your stature." He rested his hands on the shoulders of his direct report. It was the perfect distraction as two of his tentacles snaked around and swirled lightly against the back of his knees.
"...!!! NNyOO….AHH!! UEHAHA- uah-heh- aHAHEHUAH!" His free hand shook and blindly tried to reach down. Unfortunately, the darkness on his spine locked him into place and could only reach as far as his mid-thigh.
"No? Are you telling me no?" Nightmare moved his hand again and reached into his coat, his finger lightly trailing against the black tank top covering his floating rib.
"Ehuh, ehu-ah…!!! …. !!! Snk…!!" Cross tried his best to hide his laughter, but his eyes burned and small tears threatened the corners of his sockets. "......n...o….!"
"That's what I thought." His fingertips tightened against the bone. "..... But now the preliminary stage is over."
Hands and tentacles attacked where the shadows did not. The legs and neck proved to be his weakest points, so Nightmare made sure to only target there when the negativity was dipping low. Minutes dragged on as Cross refused to ask for the torture to stop. Despite his deep laughter and small whimpers of exhaustion, his dedication to the task was very impressive. The negativity from this exercise was sufficient after almost forty minutes.
---
As the shadows subsided, Nightmare caught the black and white ragdoll with his appendages and slowly eased him onto the nearby bed without protest. It was as if all of Cross' energy was transferred over to his boss. Except Nightmare wouldn't gain any energy from food like Cross would.
"..."
From his inventory, the leader pulled out a small chocolate milk with a bendy straw. A strange thing for someone of his status to keep on hand, but absolutely not because he kept all energy items for his team based on their personal preferences-- as though he cared about their enjoyment from small pleasures. Never. This was merely a coincidence.
From the bedside, he opened a small portal looking at the night sky. A waning crescent peeked through the clouds, signaling what was to come. He'd be ready.
---